


A Colossal Disaster

by armint



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gay Sex, M/M, Neck Kissing, Neck fetish, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:28:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28280151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armint/pseuds/armint
Summary: Armin cutting his hair was the colossal disaster of Jean's life. Well, his teenage life, minus the titans, previously corrupt government, and Eren.
Relationships: Armin Arlert/Jean Kirstein
Comments: 6
Kudos: 98





	A Colossal Disaster

**Author's Note:**

> This is like the dumbest plot idea I've ever had but I'm just rolling with it. Expect lots of sex, cuteness, and Levi giving the boys a sex ed lesson. Title may change later, idk lmao. I'm writing this just for shits and giggles and smut.  
> Enjoy and Merry Christmas, ya filthy animal(s).

Jean hadn’t noticed Armin’s neck until he cut his hair.

It was slim, almost girl-ish, but when he sucked in his breath or lost his patience it solidified into something unmistakably manly. Deep dips, adam's apple poking out in a sea of pale skin. When Jean first saw it he imagined the  _ pop _ his mouth would make after sucking on it, and he quickly shuffled together his papers, feigning ill so he could duck out and extinguish the vulgar thoughts going through his head. Jean had grown accustomed to hiding the flutters Mikasa would make him feel, but Armin was new. Armin made him feel red hot.

Jean felt he could barely look at Armin anymore, but with Armin’s cut hair Jean had come to realize just how much of his day was with Armin. They shared a bunk, ate breakfast together, had meetings together, arm to arm from the moment Jean woke up to when he went to bed, save for short bathroom breaks and the inhumanely short military shower. He had even grown accustomed to going to the local military library with him every other night, Armin wanting to study history, technology, whatever he could get his hands on when he wasn’t testing his titan abilities or following general orders.

When Armin first approached him after Jean had left the meeting early, he had looked concerned at first, hugging his knees as he knelt down to look at Jean. He was splayed out on his bunk after a particularly rushed and guilty session of jacking off, and he figured his freshly red, dewy skin fit the bill with him being sick. Armin looked concerned at first, but when Jean wouldn’t dare look away from his bangs or the top of his head, Armin settled into a shy expression.

“I figured it was time to cut it…” Armin sighed, pulling at a short strand just grazing the top of his right ear. His eyes flicked from an attempt to look at it towards Jean, something both embarrassed and challenging in the look. “Does it look bad?”

“No!” Jean blurted out, heaving a heavy sigh as his chest and neck heated up.  _ Fuck! _ “No, you look good, Armin.”

Armin’s gaze remained the same and Jean swallowed dryly, standing up and ruffling the blonde’s hair as he passed him. He was just a step into what he thought was freedom from that conversation before Armin spoke up.

“Aren’t you feeling ill?” Jean mentally cursed, stopping to shoot a half-assed grin over his shoulder.

“Not really.” Armin rolled his eyes and Jean left with the blonde on his tail.

Jean thought he had covered his reaction well until a few days later. It was late, and they were sitting in the library, lamps scattered about in the tiny space. Any traces of the soldiers that had been there before them were squashed by the dead silence that rung through the building. It was awkward and Jean was trying to not think about it, a book propped against the table in his lap and his eyes roaming the same few passages before realizing he had retained none of it. Armin was just to his right and was basically poured over the pages in front of him, candlelight flicking against his exposed neck.

Jean internally groaned, rolling his head back in the process, and Armin’s head turned as if he had heard the groan out loud. Jean paused in shock, head leaned back fully as he eyed Armin. Armin went from curious to annoyed in an instant, standing and huffing off with their table’s lamp.

“What?” Jean called after him, but Armin just shook his head, shooting him an annoyed glare.

“Nothing!” Jean stayed in his spot, wondering if he had looked at him weird. He had been staring at his neck -but how could Armin know that? Jean watched as Armin came back from an aisle with a book in his hand. He felt mildly puppy doggish, waiting for Armin to look up at him, acknowledge his stare, anything. It was when he was nearly back to their table that Armin looked up at him, clearly peeved and very clearly at Jean.

“ _ What? _ ” Jean repeated, more aggravated this time. This only seemed to infuriate Armin further, though, who shook his head and glared at the ceiling. Jean pressed forward against the table, sliding his book up from his lap. “Why are you angry all of a sudden? What’s going on with you?”

“I’m angry because you don’t like my hair!” Armin slams down a book when he says that, and Jean jumps slightly, mouth dumbly falling open.

“HUH?”

“You’re so aggravating, Jean!” Armin huffs, moving to go scour down a different row. Jean gets up and follows him at his feet.

“How am I aggravating?” Jean pauses before continuing, quickly catching up to the blonde with his long stride. “Why do you think I don’t like your hair?!”

Armin turns on his heels, the two running into each other from the sudden stop, bookshelves at their sides. Armin presses his hands onto Jean’s chest, attempting to push him away, the action falling short though as Jean remains unmoving in his spot. Armin looks hotly at the ground and lets his hands drop.

“Why do you think I don’t like your hair?” Jean repeats, his voice much calmer this time, almost sad. More so embarrassing, though, and Jean feels that like a hot wave up his spine. But with the way Armin is pouting, he figures he can deal with the embarrassment. Armin shouldn’t have to look like that ever (in an ideal world).

“You’ve barely been able to look at me all week.” Armin eventually mutters, looking up with doey blue eyes. His expression makes guilt swim uncomfortably in Jean’s belly. Had he really been that bad?

“So? I don’t -” Jean waves his hands dumbly, shrugging, struggling for words other than the very true  _ it’s your hot-ass fucking neck I can’t look at _ . “I don’t dislike your hair.”

“Then what is it?”

“I just -your fucking neck.” Jean gestures to it, feeling that wave of heat go into his cheeks, and God he hopes with the low light in the thin aisle Armin doesn’t notice. They’re mostly shaded from the lamps out on the tables, and it’s the one in Armin’s hands that’s making it possible for them to see each other at all. Jean tilts his chin up just slightly, hoping that causes more shade to block his freshly red face.

“My neck?” Armin raises his free hand to it, covering it. “What’s wrong with my neck?”

“It’s -”  _ Hot, perfect, kissable.  _ “It’s distracting.”

“It’s always been here, Jean.” Armin says flatly. Jean wants to roll his eyes but decides that isn’t the best course of action, especially with how snappy Armin was early just from Jean looking at him wrong. He wills himself to keep his eyes on Armin’s.

“I know. But now it’s here, in my face.” Armin looks back at him, unimpressed. “...all the fucking time.” Silence draws out between them, and Jean manages to remain looking at Armin, even when he looks away to process this on his own. Armin ultimately sighs and looks back up at him.

“...how can we move past this? So we can be normal again. What should I do?”

“What should you do?”

“Yes, Jean,” Armin sighs, sounding defeated. “Should I grow my hair out again? Wear a scarf?” Armin is halfway through speaking when Jean’s head starts shaking, the taller feeling and probably looking like a good mix of embarrassed and frustrated.

“No, I like your hair...I like your neck, too.” The words claw their way out of Jean, hushed. Armin’s eyes widen in response and Jean mentally punches himself.

“Oh.” Is his eventual reply, for once Armin not having more to say.

“...sorry….I don’t want you to be uncomfortable -”

“What do you want to do with it?”

_ Huh? _

Jean doesn’t understand how the conversation has gotten to this point, and he can barely process that it has before he starts speaking, the words spilling out of his mouth like hot vomit. “Um….bite it or something, I don’t know?” Jean feels like he can’t breathe, his words short of air and strangled. “ _ Kiss it? _ ”

" _ Oh. _ "

"Don't you ever want to do stuff like that, Armin?" Jean asks, scratching at the blush on his face with one finger, hoping to push the focus back to Armin. The other hesitates before replying.

"Of course I do."

Jean slides his gaze back at the blonde, noting the darker hue to the others cheeks. It was different talking to Armin about this than it was the others, he realized. Maybe it was because Armin was the star of his fantasy or urges, but they were just boys, right? Boys cramped into barracks, just cresting on the age of 18,  _ adulthood.  _ It should be normal for them to discuss stuff like this.

"Who?" The word stumbled out of Jean’s mouth, shocking both himself and Armin. He cleared his throat to try and make it sound like it wasn't as awkward as it was. "Who do you want to do it with?"

The question caused a stir in Armin, his blue eyes widening once more to show his shock. It quickly softens, though, into an embarrassed look directed at the floor, and Jean feels half guilty for asking and half on the edge of his seat, waiting for the answer.

"Jean...do I...do I have to answer that?"

"I mean I -I told you that I liked your neck." Jean scoffed out, wincing internally at his own lame strategy. Like being rough with Armin was going to make him open up.

But to his surprise Armin sighed, shaking his head in what Jean figures is his own disbelief, because he does answer him. "It'd have to be someone I'm comfortable with."

"Who are you comfortable wi-" Armin's palm presses against Jean's mouth, shutting him up. His eyes are looking up at Jean, glossy and exposed.

"You, alright? No more questions." Jean nodded and Armin's hand dropped, staring at him in a pleading  _ please don’t bring this up again _ kind of way before turning around and heading towards whichever bookshelf he was going to before. Jean stands still in his spot, considering the situation. 

Armin is comfortable with Jean, Armin would do things with Jean.

Jean likes Armin’s neck, Jean wants to do things with Armin and his neck.

Library empty save for them two.

Jean moves quickly on his feet, following Armin after his simple deduction. He can feel confidence amassing in him from the situation, and a grin snakes its way onto his face as the blonde turns to him, his face shaded and questioning. Jean doesn’t want to scare him off, though, and he stops a regular distance away from him. “Armin, do you want to try then?”

“W -what -” Armin flounders, cheeks turning dark in the narrowly lit aisle.

“No one’s here.” Jean goades, grin ever present on his face as he reaches for the lamp in Armin’s hand, fingers brushing the blonde’s in the process. Armin pulls his hand away, holding it to his chest with his other. Jean can feel his nerves vibrating off of him.

“...Jean, I’ve never even kissed anyone before.” Armin explains, voice low. “Wouldn’t it be odd to have kisses on my... _ neck, _ before on my lips?”

Jean considers this, the grin slipping from his face. While it was Armin’s neck that first popped his platonic illusion of Armin, was the rest of him all that bad? There was no doubt that he had a pretty face, he had even played the part of Historia before. And his body could be akin to a girls. He was muscular but lean, small, having only sprouted a few inches in the past few years. Jean had matured to 6’2, holding 9 inches over the blonde. Not that height had anything to do with who Jean wanted to, or  _ could  _ kiss anyways.

And beyond all of the physical stuff anyways -in the past few days Jean had no idea how he felt about Armin. He never envisioned himself wanting to do the same stuff he imagined doing with girls with guys. But here he was with Armin,  _ wanting _ to kiss the blonde’s neck,  _ wanting  _ to push him against the bookcase and learn what ravishing someone actually meant. Jean’s cheeks felt hot.

“I’ll kiss you.” Jean eventually replies, widening Armin’s eyes for the third time that night. Jean watches as the blonde thinks, gears in his head turning, as cautious as ever whether it be on the battlefield or not. Armin finally looks back at him, eyes sharp, his decision made.

“I do want to try it.” Jean nods in response, excited, but he lets the blonde continue. "It'll also be safer with two guys anyways, if we ever actually have sex -" Jean held back a shocked response. "-there's no risk of us having a child."

"...r-right, no kids." Jean scratches the back of his head when he says that, looking away. Sex hadn't been on his mind but now it was plastered over every inch of his thoughts. Cripes. When he manages to look back at Armin he’s watching him, red in the face and mouth in a tight line, determined. His expression said  _ are you really flaking out on me now? _

Jean huffed at the challenging looking, it breaking his temporary stunted state. He shakes his head as he sets the lamp on the ground, darkening Armin’s face further, and he wonders how much of his expression the blonde can even see of him. There’s a glow from behind Jean’s back, where lamps litter spots in the tiny library, but they’re deep in a row of bookcases now and it’s dark. Jean steps forward, further darkening the area as his body slices the light from the lamp. Armin is shadowed and just a loose dark form in front of him, and he reaches out hesitantly, his fingertips grazing the other’s cheek. He gains more confidence from the touch, flattening his palm against Armin’s cheek as he steps closer. Part of him wonders if he’s too close, that if he bent down he’d have to arch his back too much to kiss Armin, and the other part of him can’t believe he’s really going to kiss Armin. Armin, blonde and boyish boy genius. Jean sucks in a breath as he leans down.

Armin reaches out, placing his hands on Jean’s shoulders. He squeezes, and Jean releases the tension that they held, lifting his other hand to grip at Armin’s forearm. His head turns like he’s seen people do, and he closes his eyes as Armin’s head tilts upperwards under his palm. Their lips meet hesitantly, Jean unsure if he’s missed until Armin’s breath blows against his mouth, warm and rattling to Jean’s core. He dives into it, pressing harsher than intended and suppressing a squeak Armin lets out. He considers pulling back, giving Armin a moment, but then the hands on his shoulder turn to arms around his neck and he’s pulled in deeper. 

Matching the other’s enthusiasm, Jean moves his hands to around the blonde’s waist, feeling his lower back side. When Armin lets out a tiny gasp from the shift in position Jean’s tongue moves against the blonde’s instinctually, eliciting more noises from the other. It’s wet and skin tingling, and Jean wraps his tongue around the others, presses his flat against the back of Armin’s teeth. There’s so much to explore and taste, and Jean takes his time with his task. Armin doesn’t seem to mind either way, his fingers gripping at Jean’s hair, tugging when Jean does something particularly pleasurable. It’s all new and something Jean wants to spend hours studying -screw the books, technology, whatever, he wants to be an expert in which parts of kissing makes Armin moan.

When Jean finally pulls back their huffs of breath mix, faces close. Jean grins, arrogant. “How was that?”

“ _ Shut up. _ ” Armin grumbles, pulling Jean back against his mouth. Jean resumes kissing him for a moment, but then the original goal comes back to his mind: Armin’s neck.

Armin groans in annoyance when Jean pulls away, but the noise is cut in half by a sharp moan as Jean dives under his neck, kissing the soft skin. Armin’s chin juts up to allow for more access, and Jean takes the opportunity in full. He kisses up to his chin and then down below his ear, kissing and licking, leaving a wet path along the exposed skin. When he nips just under Armin’s ear and sucks at the spot the blonde seems to melt under him, arms pulling heavily around Jean’s neck. Jeans pulls back to reposition them, leading Armin’s back to be against the bookshelf. From their turned position Jean can see Armin’s face, his eyes half-lidded, lips red and kin to the glow from the lamplight. 

“Hell, Arlert.” Jean says, voice airy. He feels out of breath like he would be during training. Armin tugs at Jean’s hair at hearing his last name, pressing his forehead against Jean’s shoulder.

“Yeah, that was...unexpected.” Armin concludes, laughing before pulling back, resting his head against the books and smiling up at Jean.

“Hmm…” Jean agrees, leaning down to bite at Armin’s earlobe. He feels Armin shudder under him, and he continues to work at it with his tongue and lips until Armin speaks.

“I like your hair, too.” Jean pauses, pulling back to see a doofy, pleased look on Armin’s face. “I like it long like this.”

“I won’t cut it then.” It comes out less like a statement about hair and more of a commitment about them, and Armin hums, pleased.

“We should probably head to bed.”

Jean agrees, and he picks up his lamp to make their way around the library, blowing out the lamps placed sparsely around. There’s no more touching on the way to the barracks, and no goodnights as they get into their respective level of their shared bunk. But there’s a comfortable silence between them, and Jean finds himself smiling as he falls asleep. 


End file.
